


Portrait of a Russian

by moonandtosaturn



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, But it's also very soft because I said so, But yeah probably a lot of smut, Eating out, Eve being a top, Eve is an art student, F/F, Fingering, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Longing, Smut, There's no murder here, Villanelle is a ballerina, lesbians being lesbians, they're in love goddamnit, what more could you ask for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25494313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonandtosaturn/pseuds/moonandtosaturn
Summary: No man had walked into a room and made Eve feel like she was on fire, she had never felt anything like this before.Or, an AU where Eve is an art student & Villanelle is the model for her figure drawing class. The classic tale of painter and muse that twists itself into both the lover, & the poet's choice.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 32
Kudos: 143





	1. Do You Have Any Gum?

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written something like this in a long time, but this idea has been stuck in my head & I wanted to share. I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

* * *

Art was painfully subjective.

Anything on this planet was art, if you gave it such a label. Eve could claim her discarded coffee cup a piece of abstract art. When she got out of bed, if she took a picture of the placement of her sheets and her pillows and named the photo after an adjective, she would be remarked worldwide. That is what Eve loved about art, that is what Eve was completely _obsessed_ with about it. Similarly, that is what Eve _despised_ about art. Nothing could compare to the feeling of a sharpened pencil, the sound of a smooth and solid sketch against a fresh piece of paper. At least that is what she told herself, because if she did not, art was not a hobby anymore. Art was a game and one that she had to win.

She woke up just as tired as she had been when she went to bed, finding herself tangled up in her headphones which were blaring piano pieces and symphonies. Eve always sleeps with noise and it had become difficult to sleep without it. Last night, she strayed from her usual sounds of nature, and dove into the realm of classical music, which lulled her straight into an almost effortless slumber. Waking up to it although, was not her cup of tea. The song that was playing had a cacophony of sound so loud, it woke her up an hour before her alarm. Unfortunately, Eve was the type of person that when she woke up, she stayed awake despite all of her best efforts. So, she scraped herself off of her bed and moved towards her bathroom to begin her day.

Her daily routine was a simple one, she was never very interested in a big and complicated morning. She washed her face with water, flossed and brushed her teeth and put on deodorant. To top it all off, she pulled her ridiculous hair back into a bun. She had a love-hate relationship with her hair, it was fun and when she styled it correctly, it was her best asset. But, on early mornings like this, her hair was the least of her problems. She could honestly care less about her appearance, she knew that she was attractive enough and frankly, that was all that mattered.

Eve lived off of campus, in a studio apartment next to a laundromat and a McDonald’s. It wasn’t an ideal living situation, but she was a university student and it beat living in a dorm again. Her first two years were spent sharing a room with a rather enthusiastic education major, who Eve never really got to know farther than her general appearance and her random hello’s. But she was kind, she never bothered Eve and Eve was more than happy with that. As soon as her second year ended, she threw away her shower shoes and gathered all of her saved money together to fund her new home. She was sure her roommate was just fine and off somewhere gallivanting with her mustachioed boyfriend. This meant, by the end of her second year at Royal College of Art, Eve had made next to zero friends, and thank God for that.

Eve lazily pulled on a dark green jumper, with a pair of ripped boyfriend jeans and sandals. She had forgotten to sign up for her figure drawing class, which meant she was left with the class that started the earliest in the day, 8 AM sharp.

 _Here we go_. Eve thought to herself as she locked the key to her apartment, and made her way down the stairs.

* * *

Art students were setting up, choosing their spots from stools placed in a semicircle, surrounding a small chair in the center of it. Eve recognized a few familiar faces, none of whom she was friendly enough with to go out of her way to chat. A boy, who Eve had never seen before, sat down next to her and her easel and began rummaging through his bag. He could have sat anywhere in the classroom, but he had chosen a spot next to her.

She thought about saying hello, but instead she studied her coffee as to avoid eye contact.

“Hello!” He said, turning towards Eve and holding out his hand, “I’m Kenny.” Eve smiled blankly at the boy, shaking his hand, “I’m Eve.”

She turned back around, focusing not on her coffee this time but the blank piece of paper in front of her, hoping that Kenny caught the hint. “Your accent are you-“ Eve quickly cut him off, she had answered this question about a million times.

“Raised in London by my parents who are originally from Connecticut, so, ” She sipped on her coffee, “no accent here.” Kenny laughed at that, which surprised Eve.

“Well! I’ve never really had an American friend.” She choked on her coffee.

“Oh!” He stammered, “Are you alright?” Eve nodded, “Wrong pipe.” She cleared her throat abruptly and murmured to herself. “Friend…” She shook her head and listened as Kenny started a new conversation with a curly-haired woman to his right.

Eve was preparing to mentally check out, when a woman floated into the room. She must have been taller than Eve, with long blonde hair that fell over her pink silk kimono. Her face was sharp, all of her angles chiseled out perfectly like an ancient Roman statue. She had high cheekbones, and her hazel eyes shone as if she had a secret that she did not want to tell. Her dark eyebrows arched, and her pink lips spread in a smirk as she wandered around the chair. She danced, swaying her hips and motioning her hands, the whole classroom her own personal orchestra. Her perfectly manicured nails were short and painted a bright sky blue, her fingers donned in large golden rings and stones. She climbed on top of the chair, knowing that the whole entire room had their eyes on her, and she loved it. Eve could tell that this woman was hungry, glancing around the room quickly to make sure that she gathered everyone's attention before she settled down. The instructor sat quietly in the back, shaking her head as if this was a common occurrence.

Eve was fixated, on how the woman moved, the smooth curve of her hips and her pointed collarbone that revealed itself more and more as she let the kimono fall down her shoulders. Finally, the robe dropped, and Eve let out a quick gasp.

The model must have heard her because she slowly turned, licked her lips and smiled at Eve. Her eyes were so piercing and immediate against Eve’s stunned gaze. Eve had felt like someone had just dumped cold ice water on her head, those eyes woke her up more than a thousand cups of coffee could. The woman simply winked at her, and turned around, almost like she knew where Eve’s gaze would directly follow.

 _Good God_.

The woman settled onto the chair, leaning against it and letting her head drop. One leg pulled straight off of the chair and the other leg pulled up, her hands placed on top of each other delicately on her bent knee.

“Class,” The instructor placed her glasses on her shaggy red hair, “This is Oksana-“ The model cut her off almost immediately, “I certainly would prefer if you would call me Villanelle.” She looked at Eve when she said this, and Eve broke eye contact, studying the charcoal that smudged with the sweat on her palms.

The instructor brushed her off, “Yes, she would like to be called Villanelle, it doesn’t matter to me. My name, is Carolyn but you will only call me Ms. Martens.” She punctuated the statement, making sure everyone knew that if they messed up, their grade would surely suffer. “Oksana will be your female model for most of this semester.” Hands raised immediately, “Yes, I know that is not traditional, but she insisted and quite frankly, I don’t really care.” Villanelle still had that same smirk, plastered on her face, obviously ecstatic to be in this position.

Ms. Martens clapped her hands together, “Alright. Now it’s time for what you’re actually here for.” The whole class awaited for the sentence to follow, but Ms. Martens looked confused. “What? You’re not children. Draw the woman.”

She did not have to tell Eve twice. Eve swiftly began to sketch, her hands unable to catch up with the thumping of her heart. There was something about Villanelle that was so dangerously alluring, and Eve could not quite put her finger on it. The freedom of university, introduced Eve to open thoughts and ideas. Growing up, she was so used to the idea of being with a man, because that was how it was supposed to be. Of course, she never minded it. She dated here and there earlier in school, flirting and flings, but she was never attached to any of them. No man had walked into a room and made Eve feel like she was on fire, she had never felt anything like this before.

Her thoughts wandered as she tried her best to replicate the shape of Villanelle’s thigh and the point of her nose. She wanted to run her hands through her hair, to feel the soft skin of her stomach, to kiss her-

And just like that, class was dismissed. Villanelle slid off of the wooden chair and wrapped herself in her robe. She began to stretch, touching her toes and letting her head fall forward. Ms. Martens walked towards her, whispering something to her and patting her on the back. Eve tried her best to eavesdrop, but it proved highly unsuccessful.

“Oh, wow.” It was Kenny again, who was looking over Eve’s shoulder at her finished project. “Eve, that’s-“ He stopped, his eyes going wide, “that’s just beautiful.” Eve smiled, surprised at his genuine compliment. In Eve’s experience, people were too worried about their talent or lack thereof to praise someone else’s, she really appreciated Kenny going out of his way to do so.

She looked at her sketch, she had done much better figure drawing in the past, but this was not like her usual style of art. This was more expressive, it held more energy like it was ready to jump off of the page. It was fluid, not completely anatomically correct, but it portrayed something. She branched out from her usual habit of perfection, and for once she did not hate what she created.

She began to pack up, quickly stashing her charcoal and her drawing pencils away, turning towards Kenny. “Thank you, Kenny. That’s really, really kind of you.” He was shrugging on his coat, “Of course. I just call it like I see it.” He gave Eve a nod and walked away, chatting with the woman from before. She had a beautiful smile and Eve could just make out Kenny laughing and saying, “Elena!” Before they both walked out of the door.

Eve plugged her headphones into her phone, she could not shake the thought of Villanelle from her mind. She wanted to say something, but her introverted nature kept her from doing so. She promised herself she would work up the nerve eventually when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hello.” It was Villanelle, twirling her hair around her finger and smiling down at Eve. Her robe began to fall down her shoulder again, but Villanelle did not move a muscle. “Do you have any gum?” She spoke with a Russian accent, her words deep and smooth.

“No, sorry.” This was usually when Eve would put her headphone back in, turn away and continue about her day. But, she did not. She stood there, looking into Villanelle’s eyes, searching for something, _anything_ , to say to her.

Villanelle stopped twirling her hair, and began to bite on her nails, drawing all the attention to her mouth. “Oh, well. That’s a shame.” And she turned away, her robe slinking further down, revealing the small of her back and the curve of her waist.

Art was painfully subjective.

Well, art was usually painfully subjective. But this girl, Oksana, Villanelle, whoever she was, the regular rules did not apply to her. The whole entire godforsaken world could agree on this one thing: she was a fucking masterpiece.


	2. Have You Ever Been to Lucy's?

* * *

“Jesus Christ, hello?” Eve was being poked repeatedly on the shoulder, and it was far from gentle. By the aggravation in the woman’s voice, Eve could tell the woman had been trying desperately to get her attention. Eve groaned, pulling out her headphones, “What.”

And holy shit, _holy fucking shit_ it was not someone she had been desperately trying to ignore, it was not an annoying kid from a party she had forgotten about, it was her. It was Villanelle.

Villanelle, who went from being completely nude to being clothed, rolled her eyes at Eve. “You left this.”

Eve looked Villanelle up and down as subtly as she could, which knowing herself, was not very subtle at all. Villanelle was wearing a knee length slip dress, smooth against her body and contrasting greatly with her clunky platform boots. She was dripping in gold jewelry, wearing loud bracelets and a long necklace that fell into her cleavage. The pink of the fabric matched the flush against her face, and Eve snapped out of her stupor after realizing Villanelle had been panting.

“Hello?!” She waved her hand in front of Eve’s face, snapping her fingers, “Are you paying any attention at all?”

“Sorry, I-“ Eve was still perplexed, trying her best not to stare at Villanelle’s chest.

Villanelle, obviously growing more annoyed by the second, grabbed Eve’s hand, giving her a folded up piece of paper. Eve stared at it, did she really forget something?

Villanelle crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently, “Well. What do you say?” Eve scoffed, “What do I say? Thank you so, _so_ much.” She spoke with as much sarcasm as she could muster, and Villanelle smirked looking Eve up and down, just as Eve herself had done earlier. Except, Villanelle was quite the opposite of subtle. “You’re welcome.”

Villanelle promptly turned and walked away towards the english building, her heavy shoes leaving imprints in the grass. Eve, extremely confused, found the nearest bench and unfolded the piece of paper. In bold, red cursive a note read:

_Aren’t you supposed to take a woman on a date first?_

Next to it was her number, and a tiny x.

Eve squinted, she turned the paper around, she looked behind her. Was this all an elaborate joke? This could not be right, not even in the slightest. She stuffed the note into her bag, and started the walk towards the small cafe on campus. Immediately her mind wandered, thinking that it would be the perfect place for a first date. Would such a proud woman even enjoy a cafe? Would she not rather be flown out to a new country in a private jet to sip on champagne and get fucked in Paris? Would she not rather go on a shopping spree and make Eve pay every last penny? A date to a cafe would be like asking Villanelle to a public toilet. Surely, Eve did not know that though, but Villanelle’s eccentric wardrobe and attitude said otherwise.

Eve ordered her regular, a black coffee and a blueberry muffin. She sat in a tucked away corner and immediately pulled out the note. With her muffin in one hand, and her phone in the other, she added Villanelle’s number, wiping crusted sugar from her face.

What were the rules? Should she wait, she did not want to seem too excited. But she was excited, this was new and overwhelming but she was more than open to the idea. Throwing caution out the window, Eve began to craft the perfect text.

_“My place, or yours?”_

Eve deleted that as quickly as humanly possible.

" _I don’t know, you tell me.”_

Eve took another bite of her muffin, deleting this message too, as quickly as humanly possible. Finally, Eve settled on,

_“Have you ever been to Lucy’s?”_

Lucy’s was a small bar, a short walk from main campus. It was not too well known, Eve had only ever heard news about it from word of mouth, but she had a feeling Villanelle might enjoy it. Never too cramped, but never too empty. The music playing was always excellent, and it never failed to feel inviting. It was sort of Eve’s secret, and she surprised herself by sharing it with Villanelle. She set down her phone, exhaling loudly and focusing on her half eaten muffin. She was about to get up to get more napkins when her phone buzzed.

No way, there is just _no_ way.

She picked up her phone, too afraid and anticipating just an email or a notification from Instagram. But, it must have been her lucky day. The name, Villanelle, flashed with the text underneath reading,

_“Pick me up tonight at 8.”_

Eve slumped into her chair, her heart and her mind racing for the finish line. She brushed off her hands, and pulled out the large sketchbook from her bag. She searched through lazy doodles and old projects from last year and finally found the sketch she did of Villanelle. Her finger followed every line, tracing what she had drawn only moments ago. Something electric buzzed through Eve, knowing she would be dancing with this woman tonight, touching this woman. Her mind won the race, and she began to wonder what she would wear. Maybe, she would wear something cool, like a fitted pair of slacks and a tight white tank top, or, she would wear the colorful dress she bought in Korea, with peplum sleeves and polka dots. She would dress her hair up, wear an old pair of heels and perhaps even lipstick, if she was feeling bold.

Eve packed up her stuff, ate the rest of her muffin and grabbed her coffee. She had another class, but it did not start for another hour and there was something she had to do.

* * *

During Eve’s first year at university, she formed an unusual bond with her english professor. He insisted upon all of his students calling him by his first name, Konstantin. A rather gruff looking, and sturdy man with a white beard and sad eyes. Most times, when someone bragged about going through hell and coming back, Eve never genuinely believed it. But, there was something in the way Konstantin demanded a room, how he addressed misdemeanors and his posture when he began talking about what it was like back home in Russia. Eve knew that Konstantin was being genuine. Eve and Konstantin did not talk all that much, but that was why their relationship was so strong, a lot was shared within their silence. The two respected each other deeply, and at the end of the year, he offered his classroom whenever Eve needed to concentrate or sketch, etc.

Eve gently opened his door, letting herself in without knocking. Konstantin looked up from his ridiculous typewriter, “First day of a new semester and you are already in here, eh?” He laughed. The familiarity of him was refreshing, especially after such an unorthodox morning.

“What can I say? I just missed hearing you type _that_ much.” Konstantin shook his head, and Eve took a seat in the back, pulling out a smaller sketchbook and pen.

Eve began by drawing Villanelle’s eyes that had captured her attention with just a simple glance. She took out what was left of her colored pencil and shaded in their green hue. Eve was heavy with her pen when she began to draw Villanelle's dark arched eyebrows, and light when she began to draw her wide smile. Concentrating on remembering every possible detail that she could, like the way Villanelle’s hair parted to the side, a shade of honey. Or, the bridge of her nose and dangerously high cheekbones. She completely lost herself in what she was doing, that even the sound of Konstantin’s writing faded into the background. She only snapped back into reality when she felt the looming presence of Konstantin.

“You are drawing? Can I see?” He never missed an opportunity to peruse Eve’s sketchbook, and he was one of the few who were lucky enough to do so. Eve nodded, pushing it towards him. He picked it up, and as soon as his eyes landed, his breath caught.

“What? What is it?” Eve had received plenty of reactions similar to this, but never from Konstantin. He was kind and easily excitable, but not the sort of man to be shocked. Konstantin set down the book carefully, smiling down at Eve.

“Nothing. She looks beautiful! Whoever she is.” He laughed after he said this, another sign for Eve that something was most definitely wrong. Of _course_ Villanelle had enchanted her fair share, and it seemed like Konstantin was another subject to her whims. 

“You know her?” Eve questioned and Konstantin stood frozen in his place, laughing again while shaking his head.

“No." He stared directly at Eve, and Eve suddenly felt very aware of herself and her space. He pursed his lips, thinking of something else to say. He must have come to a conclusion, because instead of saying anything he began to walk away.

“How are you so bad at lying?” Eve chuckled, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know,” he drew this statement out, “I think she was a student. That is all.” He obviously did not want to talk about this for any longer, and Eve thought it best not to pry. Her next class started soon, so she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked towards the door. 

“It looks just like her.” Konstantin made eye contact with Eve, sighing and returning to his work. 

* * *

The day could not have gone by any slower. During her lectures, Eve was drawing those eyes over and over again. The pages in her notebook became less words and more sketches, and Eve ignored doing anything else. In the afternoon, Eve walked by the classroom where the figure drawing classes had been held, and a weird feeling passed over her heart when Villanelle was not in there. Why would she be in there? Logically, it did not make sense, but Eve was feeling anything but logical at the moment. 

On her walk home, Eve realized Villanelle did not actually tell her where she lived. Eve sort of felt like an idiot and pulled out her phone, pausing on the sidewalk thinking it would help her concentrate better. She bit her lip, unable to think of something clever to say. Why was Eve trying this hard? 

_Funny, you didn't tell me where you lived._

Immediately, Eve saw that Villanelle was typing something back.

_Funny, you didn't ask until now._

Heat rushed to Eve's face, there was not something to be embarrassed of but Eve felt like she had a pressure to live up to with Villanelle, to please her.

Villanelle began typing again and Eve sighed with relief, she was not good at being a tease. She had sent Eve a link to her location, and Eve replied promptly with a simple, 

_See you at 8._

Villanelle lived close to Eve, it was only about a ten minute walk and next to a park that Eve frequented when it was cooler outside. She smiled to herself, she was giddy and she ran straight up her stairs to her apartment door. She had an hour to get ready, so she poured herself a glass of wine and chose one of her favorite records. It was from her childhood, old French songs that made Eve feel like dancing and singing, even though her French was shit. Sipping her wine, she rummaged through her closet and decided on a black jumpsuit. She set the piece on her bed, and undressed, dancing around her room and humming to the familiar tune. She stared at herself in the mirror, she was not small and slim like Villanelle, but she loved her body all the same. She loved her hips, the shape of her thighs and her shoulders, she also had an exceptionally good ass. At the moment, Eve was wearing a simple bra and underwear, and although not knowing where the night was going to go, she decided to switch things up. Buried beneath sweatpants and old t-shirts, were the lingerie she would not usually dare to wear. It was a matching set of black lace, that left nothing to the imagination. Eve's heart skipped a beat as she clasped on the bra and looked at herself in the mirror. She was hot, and a large part of her hoped that the night would end with Villanelle seeing her like this. 

She slipped into her jumpsuit, put on her nude heels and rubbed an old perfume on her pulse points. With ten minutes until it was time to pick Villanelle up, Eve began on the walk to her apartment. She could not sit and fester for much longer, she felt like she could just explode. She controlled her breathing and instead of focusing on what it would feel like to touch Villanelle's hips, she focused on the already radiating pain coming from her feet. The walk felt shorter than she thought, and soon enough Eve arrived at Villanelle's apartment. She scanned the list of names and her eyes immediately saw the same cursive writing from before.

_Villanelle._

Her name alone sent shivers down her spine and with her urgency building, Eve pushed the button next to Villanelle's name. 

"Hi Eve." Eve jumped, the Russian's voice rang in her ears and she could feel her breath on her neck. She turned around to see Villanelle on the step below her, smiling. 

"Were you standing there this whole time?" Eve pressed a hand to her forehead. 

"Yes, but you seemed so _concentrated_ , I didn't want to bother you." She took Eve's hand, guiding her down the steps until they were both on the same level. Still holding onto her hand, she leaned close into Eve, her lips brushing against her ear. The hair on Eve's neck stood up, her face flushing a deep scarlet. Villanelle's hand ran through Eve's hair and her fingernails played with her curls and massaged her scalp. 

"Eve ..." She drew it out, humming into Eve's ear. "You look _sexy_." Eve fell into Villanelle's delicate touch and the sound of her voice caused a small noise to escape Eve's mouth without her permission. Villanelle's hand found the base of Eve's ponytail and gently she took the elastic and pulled it out of Eve's hair. She let it drop to the concrete and Villanelle stepped back, her hand on her hip, smirking at Eve like she was proud of her work. Villanelle paused, waiting for Eve's cue, forcing Eve back into reality. She approached Eve once more, taking her hand and circling it around her waist, pulling them close to one another. Eve closed her eyes, breathing in deeply the smell of Villanelle. The scent was intoxicating, it was earthy and smelled faintly of lavender, oakwood and sage.

"Are you ready to go?" Villanelle asked as Eve stepped back. Eve nodded, wishing Villanelle's hand would stay on her waist. Instead, Villanelle let go, clapping her hands in excitement. Eve tried her best to compose herself, running her hand through her hair and simply staring at Villanelle, just like she had that morning. 

"Well? What are you waiting for! Lead the way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive feedback on my first chapter! I'm glad you guys are as excited for this as I am. It would mean a lot to me if you shared this with your fellow girls and gays. I'm hoping you enjoyed this chapter ... get ready for what's coming in chapter three. ;)


	3. Good Sex and Good Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly NSFW! Also, I made a Twitter for this! Follow @villanfemme. <3

* * *

Villanelle was not really sure what was going through her head when she chased after Eve and gave her her phone number. It was like some external source took control of her, and that was not something that she encountered regularly. Usually, Villanelle kept a sturdy head on her shoulders, she was always present, never leaving a moment to the imagination. She perfected every movement, every glance and every possible thing that she could perfect. Villanelle had to be perfect, and that was that. For example, to make sure she remained mysterious, she left her apartment fifteen minutes before, sat on the steps and hid behind the mailboxes when she heard Eve's heels clicking on the concrete. She was successful in surprising the woman, because Villanelle was _always_ successful. 

A walk to Lucy's would be slightly longer than enjoyable so the two hailed a cab. Eve was quiet for almost the whole entire drive, looking out the window and focusing on everything but Villanelle, which was _incredibly_ frustrating to her. 

Villanelle placed her hand on Eve's thigh, "Are you not going to compliment me?" She pouted, her big eyes staring into Eve.

"Oh. Yes, you look, you look radiant." Eve had gone soft on Villanelle, she thought. Earlier, she was witty and almost rude. That, excited Villanelle, she loved good banter, she loved a good flirtatious, clever conversation. But, maybe this being different was not so bad, every relationship Villanelle had been in that was primarily focused around sarcasm ended in good sex and bad feelings. Maybe this time, Villanelle could have good sex _and_ good feelings.

"Well, thank you. It took you long enough, hm?" 

"What, is there a time limit on compliments? Can I not compliment you at my leisure, _Villanelle_." 

_Fuck._

All Eve did was say Villanelle's name, but it sent shivers up and down her spine. She desperately tried to remain cool, but it was hard to ignore the pang in her stomach and the goosebumps on her skin. She wanted to hear Eve say her name again, to watch her lips form the vowels. 

"You must not make a lady wait, _Eve_." She followed suit, saying Eve's name slowly and carefully. 

Eve inched closer to Villanelle, brushing a stray hair behind her ear and leaving her palm on Villanelle's cheek. "My apologies, Villanelle, I'll be more diligent next time." The moment was entirely too still, the silence hanging heavy and the sound of their breathing taking up all of the room in the cab. Villanelle bit her bottom lip, staring at Eve's mouth, the space between them growing smaller and smaller and- 

The taxi came to a halt, the bright blue neon light of the Lucy's sign, illuminating the car. Eve removed her hand from Villanelle's face, quickly exiting the cab. 

_Fuck!_

That, was very annoying. Really, fucking annoying. Villanelle pulled her compact out of her clutch, examining her face in the small mirror. Villanelle had done her makeup for maybe over an hour, she was going to look flawless and she was successful in that endeavor as well. She made sure she was glowing, highlighting her cheekbones, her chin and her nose. She had a tube of rouge, and painted her cheeks a light pink and a dark red, blending the colors seamlessly. She was wearing her favorite lip gloss, and curled her lashes to make her green eyes seem even bigger. She closed the compact, she looked composed and if she had been blushing, it surely had faded away by now. She paid the driver generously, and stepped out of the cab. 

She walked into the bar, spotting Eve sitting on a worn barstool. "You didn't even wait for me." 

"I knew that you would find me." 

Villanelle sat on the stool next to Eve's and waved down the waiter for drinks. Villanelle was wearing one of her favorite dresses, a very short wrap dress with a plunging neckline. She crossed her legs, her dress hiking up and drawing more attention to her thigh. 

"Tell me about yourself." The waiter placed two napkins down, and their two glasses. Villanelle reached for hers, sipping on the smooth concoction and smiling at Eve. 

"No, you go first." Eve followed suit, grabbing the cold drink and taking a large gulp. She set the drink back on the napkin, leaning her elbow on the counter and propping her face up with her hand.

"Well, my name is Villanelle. I'm originally from Russia," she smoothed out her skirt, "I'm an Writing major, my favorite color is red and I'm twenty years old." 

Villanelle almost let it slip that she had been practicing ballet for eighteen years of her life, but she hated people knowing. Ballet was an intense art form, difficult and grueling. Most nights, Villanelle had to fill up her tub with ice to soak her feet until they became numb. But, it could also be easily mistaken for something pretty and delicate, and although she liked Eve, she was not sure if she would understand. Plus, she had to keep something a secret, it was just more interesting that way.

"I'm Eve Park, I'm twenty-four, I'm a little old for university but it's only because I took a gap year to study in Korea. I've drawn my whole entire life and I can't drive." 

Villanelle scoffed, "You can't drive?"

"No, can you?" 

"Of course not! I had no business learning how to drive, but I expected more from you." 

Eve laughed at this, and Villanelle thought Eve had the prettiest laugh she had ever heard. It was all too overwhelming of an emotion, and Villanelle's heart spun like an effortless pirouette. She could not look away from her smile, from her eyes that shone with laughter and the curls that fell in her face. Villanelle finished her drink, and stood up. 

"Do you dance?" 

Eve shook her head, obviously uncomfortable. "No, no not really. Not in public." 

"Oh, 'cmon you're the one that took me here! Look at the people dancing. I want to do that too, so will you be joining me?" She held out her hand, and Eve, hesitant at first, took it. 

"Just, one dance, okay?" Villanelle's smile broke into a grin. 

The song playing was one that Villanelle was not familiar with, but apparently Eve was. Her face seemed to light up, and once again, Villanelle's heart soared. Why was she reacting like this? Yes, she thought Eve was attractive, yes, she enjoyed her company but it was rare that Villanelle felt any emotions of this kind. She was used to the feeling that would build in her stomach, the lust and the hungry need for sex. But, Eve was making Villanelle soft, making her blush and giggle, and needless to say, she was confused. What made matters even worse, was that this was only the first day of knowing Eve, of seeing her and beginning to understand her. Villanelle felt an uncomfortable pang in her gut, wishing she could ask for more drinks to drown out the feeling. As soon as she was ready to let Eve know she was ordering another round, there was Eve, closing her eyes and swaying to the beat of the music. She did not need alcohol now. 

"Do you know this song?" She placed a hand on her hip, smiling at the peaceful demeanor that seemed to take over Eve. 

"Yes! You don't know Vampire Weekend?" 

Villanelle raised an eyebrow, "No... But I like this song. I like watching you dance to it." Eve simply smiled, confidence blooming as she let herself get carried away with the music. 

Suddenly, Villanelle was the meek one, afraid to dance, finding her feet glued to the layered rugs on the hardwood floor.

_I see a mansard roof through the trees._

Eve took Villanelle's hand, pulling her in close to her body. Villanelle placed her hands on Eve's shoulders, and Eve placed her hands on Villanelle's hips, guiding them to the beat of the music. The song was exciting, upbeat and jumping with drums and a bright piano melody. Eve spun Villanelle away from her, Villanelle laughing loudly and spinning back into the hold of Eve. She felt like she was flying, as if when Eve spun her, her feet left the floor and she was floating in Eve's arms. The song and the presence of the woman making her feel radiant and electric.

_I see a salty message written in the eaves._

Sweat began to prickle on her forehead, the steady grip of Eve's hands making the hair's on the back of her neck stand up. More and more people circled around the pair, the alcohol making the crowd dance like no one was watching. The room was packed tight and Villanelle pulled Eve even closer, making the two dance cheek to cheek. The complete absence of space between Eve, Villanelle and all of the strangers, was both nerve-wracking and exhilarating. The sound of Eve's breathing echoing in Villanelle's ear made a small pulse begin to form under her waist, and she needed to do something about the feeling. 

_The ground beneath my feet, the hot garbage and concrete._

"Villanelle..." Eve whispered. Villanelle's hips now did all the work, moving them in perfect time and grinding them roughly against Eve. Eve inhaled sharply, "Villanelle!" 

Villanelle took one hand off of Eve's shoulder, finding the back of Eve's head and pulling down _hard_ on her hair. Eve's head fell back into Villanelle's touch, cursing under her breath. Villanelle saw the sweat that trickled from Eve's jawline down her neck. She leaned in, trailing kisses and sucking on the smooth skin. Eve moaned this time, her hands still on Villanelle's hips which were continuing to grind against her body. The feeling below Villanelle's waist was building up and she felt the wetness that began to soak through her underwear. 

"Eve."

"Yes?" She hummed into Villanelle's ear. 

"Touch me." 

"Right here?" Eve's eyes widened. 

"Only if you're comfortable but I really-" 

Villanelle slowed her hips, gasping at the cool feeling of Eve's hand going up her dress. Villanelle ground against Eve's fingers, "Villanelle, you- you're..." 

At this point, Villanelle could not even manage a single word, completely succumbing to the intoxicating feeling. Eve took her other hand, and tilted Villanelle's chin up at her, staring right through her. She maintained eye contact as she removed her hand from under Villanelle's dress, and up to her mouth. She licked her lips, before taking her finger and sucking on it slowly, making a show out of the whole affair. Villanelle's knees began to shake, she felt herself losing balance. Eve, as if she knew, wrapped her arm around Villanelle's waist, steadying her. She then took the fingers she had just licked and stuck them into Villanelle's mouth. Villanelle licked up and down, sucking and making Eve shiver. Eve’s finger popped out of Villanelle's lips, and without warning, Eve hastily unraveled herself from Villanelle. She stumbled backwards, feeling raw and confused, watching as Eve disappeared into the crowd.

_And now the tops of buildings, I can see them too._

The song finished, and Villanelle stood on her tiptoes, looking over the heads of everyone still bouncing in the room. She could finally just make out the top of Eve's curls, walking towards the restroom. Villanelle pushed through the crowds of people, the room feeling dangerously infinite.

She pushed open the heavy door, and found Eve washing her hands. 

"What the fuck was that about?" 

Eve was now drying off her hands, and examining herself in the mirror. She dabbed away sweat, making eye contact with Villanelle through the mirror. Villanelle, who's slicked back hair and ponytail were all a mess and who's mascara smudged under her eyes because of the sweat. 

She threw away her paper towel, "I dunno. I kind of like having you wrapped around my finger." She turned back towards the mirror, and pulled out a red lipstick from her clutch, applying it carefully. Her lips fell open as she applied the lipstick, "Is that a problem?" 

"That sounds like bullshit." There was too much aggravation in her voice, she sighed. "What's the real reason."

Eve paused, as if she was contemplating something important and finally said, "I've never been with a woman before." Villanelle's face fell, she felt awful.

"Eve, I'm sorry. I had no idea, I'm really, very sorry." 

Eve faced Villanelle, "No, no it's okay. I really liked it. I, _really_ , liked it." Villanelle laughed, "But, if we want to go further, I need more time.”

Villanelle cupped Eve's face, planting a small kiss on her forehead. "Sorry baby. I'll do better next time, I promise." 

Eve glanced down at her phone, wincing. "Shit. It's late, and I've got a very important class tomorrow." 

Villanelle smirked, "And what class would that be?"

"You are such a tease." 

"I think you like it."

"Oh, absolutely." 

But, Eve was right. It was nearing 1 AM and Villanelle was exhausted, she needed her beauty sleep, especially if she had to do another round of posing tomorrow. She did not want to fall asleep on the job, although, she would love to see the look on Carolyn's face. 

"I called for an Uber, it's almost here, do you need a ride?" 

"No, no I will be fine. I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Alright." Eve quickly kissed Villanelle's cheek before awkwardly waving a goodbye.

Villanelle sighed, opening one of the dirty stalls. 

_Ew._

All of the dancing and grinding and for lack of better words, horniness, made Villanelle really have to piss. Before even finishing, she pulled out her phone and quickly dialed a number she had dialed one too many times. Could she have just opened his contact? Yes. But, did she receive slight satisfaction when she proved to herself she had his whole number memorized? Also, yes. It took a couple of rings, but finally he picked up. The man grunted, and Villanelle got up to flush. 

"Sorry, one moment." 

There was silence once again, and she walked out of the stall to wash her hands, her shoulder pushing her phone up against her chin. 

"Konstantin," she held out his name, whining, "can you pick me up? Pretty please?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Villanelle perspective because I really wanted to write as her and I missed my wife ,,, so I hope you enjoyed. Also, I'm sorry if I'm sort of shit at writing the more sensual stuff I'm working on it !!!!


	4. Invisible String

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets NSFW! So, be careful where you read it. I'm sorry for the delayed post, this week was difficult, which is why I wanted to make those chapter a bit longer. Sending love!

* * *

“You know Villanelle, it is very late.” Konstantin had wrapped himself quickly in an old bathrobe, Villanelle catching glimpses of his sleepy eyes when they drove under the street lights.

“Yes, Konstantin, I know this.” The bumpiness of the road and the drinks in her stomach, making her eyes heavy.

She began to pluck out her bobby-pins, unravelling the ribbon that was tying her ponytail back. She could tell Konstantin was angry, he kept sighing over and over and murmuring obscenities in Russian under his breath.

“You know this, and yet..?”

Villanelle did not answer. She hated when she made Konstantin mad, she felt as though she had failed him and that made her feel terrible. But, there was no one else she wanted to turn to, she needed him.

“Villanelle, I went through all of this work for you to be the model for this ridiculous art class, just for you to spend the night before your second day, drinking with a random lady? Did you forget the goal you so desperately fought for? Hm?”

“That was _her.”_

“Excuse me.”

Villanelle turned towards Konstantin, who was concentrating on the streets ahead of them. Villanelle turned down the classical music, “That was Eve.”

“I thought you said you were going to take your time.”

He sighed for the hundredth time, shaking his head. The truth was, Villanelle had seen Eve before.

* * *

Last spring, the university was bustling with upcoming freshman and their families. Anxious, excited, eager for their new beginnings. Villanelle, was not so different. Being raised by Konstantin, meant she was raised a writer. From a young age, he encouraged Villanelle to write every second she could, so she did. From, writing on napkins while waiting at restaurants to keeping a notebook on her at all times, Villanelle fell in love with the art. Attending the Royal College of Art was a given, especially because Konstantin was a widely renewed professor there. Villanelle’s acceptance into the program was ridiculously easy, but that was because she was ridiculously talented.

Villanelle’s relationship with Konstantin was a simple one. Villanelle did not like her family, especially her mother. They never understood each other, but her and Konstantin did. He was there from the beginning, a neighbor in the village where Villanelle used to live, a hand when Villanelle needed it, a friend. When Konstantin was offered a job in London, Villanelle begged him to take her with him, and he did. Konstantin was successful enough to support the two of them, so successful, he was eventually able to give Villanelle a home of her own, but still, they would eat every dinner together when they could.

“This campus is ugly.” Villanelle grunted, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her pleated slacks. They were a soft beige, and she wore a cropped tank top that was tight on her chest. Her hair fell across her shoulders, and she made a mental note to trim it when she got back to her flat.

“This is one of the best art schools, Villanelle. You must be more polite, this is where you’ll be studying for a long while.”

“Yes, I know Konstantin, but I still have eyes.” Konstantin rolled his eyes at Villanelle, her feet now in third position and her arms stretching towards the cloudy sky.

The school was open for an orientation of sorts, but some students were still there to complete their exams before the summer vacation. 

"Do I look good here?" Villanelle propped herself up on her tiptoes, her arms gracefully held above her head, a vision of perfection.

"You look like you want attention." Villanelle landed on her feet, bowing.

"Always." She crossed her arms, “May I go walk around?” Konstantin nodded, “Meet me at my office, please do not do anything stupid Oksana.”

She began to back away from him, flipping him off while she did. "Love you!"

Villanelle really did not like the campus, but she liked the people there. She found a bench, pulled a crisp red apple out of her purse, and snacked while watching the students pass. It was no surprise that this was an art school, there were girls and boys with tattoos, piercings and brightly colored hair. Despite the excitement each of them possessed, none of them caught her eye. She yawned, bored and ready to head back to Konstantin’s office when she saw _her_.

An Asian woman, with curly hair that was tied back in a lazy ponytail. She had a green knitted backpack, slouched over one shoulder and headphones in, as she lugged a rather large sketchbook across campus. She was obviously stressed, sighing as she adjusted herself repeatedly to keep herself from dropping her things.

Villanelle took another bite of her apple, leaning forward to get a better look at the woman. The woman paused to set her stuff down, desperately trying to strategize a better way to carry everything. Loose strands of curly hair fell around her face, and Villanelle felt the odd and sudden urge to wrap it around her finger, to play with her hair and run her hands through it. The woman suddenly looked up, someone had said her name. _Eve._ Villanelle finally got a good glance of her eyes, _Eve's_ eyes. They were distant, but a warm and deep brown color, like the perfect cup of coffee. Eve reached up a hand, waving to someone, but who? Not long after, a slouchy and tall man appeared. Villanelle’s eyes widened, was this her boyfriend? Villanelle was not close enough to hear, so she could only pick up on visual cues. Eve looked entirely too annoyed, cursing herself for not walking away quick enough before the man could see her. The man was staying quite a distance from her, with his back towards Villanelle. Soon, he must have mentioned a building, because he gestured at one behind him. Meaning, Villanelle could finally see his face.

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

She cringed, swallowing another bite of her apple and frowning at the man from afar. He had a mustache so big, it was taking up half of his face, like a sad, dead squirrel above his lip. Villanelle really hoped that this was not the woman’s boyfriend, because that would just be _pathetic_. A woman as beautiful as that, would not be with him. The conversation seemed to have ended, because the man walked away and the woman returned to her music. Villanelle sat back, excited to look into Eve's eyes again. But instead, she watched as the woman started walking towards where Villanelle was sitting.

 _Shit._ She thought to herself, _shit, shit, shit._

Before Villanelle could panic any further, the woman walked right past Villanelle and to the building the man had been referring to earlier. She sighed with relief, but felt a tad bit disappointed. She got up quickly, looked for the nearest bin and threw away her apple. She licked her lips, contemplating her next move. She could have easily let this stranger go, but Villanelle felt some invisible and desperate pull towards her. Plus, there was still time before Konstantin would want her to return to his office. So, she fell into the invisible string, and followed the woman.

Villanelle did not have experience in this area, but she was a dancer, which meant she was quick and light on her feet. She paused as she watched Eve enter the building, waiting a few seconds before following suit. When she walked inside, she hid while Eve turned a corner down the hallway. Villanelle scanned the posters on the walls, and memorized a few of the teacher’s names, hoping that maybe one of them would clue her to her surroundings. She ran her hands across the framed paintings and sketches, pottery displayed and lit up in cases. Of course, this Eve woman, was an artist.

Villanelle turned that same corner, only to find there was just one door that led to a large studio space. She approached the door, steering clear of the window, and peaking through from the side. There she was, blowing hair out of her face and gesturing with her hands, talking to a rather posh looking woman. Villanelle's nerves got the best of her, so she made a mental note of the professor’s appearance and name next to the door, and ran back to tell Konstantin everything. 

“I think that I am in love with her.” Konstantin chuckled, shooing Villanelle off of his desk.

“Hey! I’m serious.” She huffed, crossing her arms. Villanelle joked about many things, but the sudden feeling that was surfacing in her heart was not something to joke about. 

“Who was she talking to again?” Konstantin was still looking down at his papers, underlining and circling mistakes. 

“I don’t know. A woman with the last name Martins.” 

“Oh, she’s an art professor. She helps out with the figure drawing classes occasionally. She is very, _very_ clever.”

Villanelle punched Konstantin’s shoulder, “You know so much about her.”

“Well yes, she is my colleague.” When Villanelle was like this, he spoke to her like she was a child. As much as she wanted to be angry about that, it was how she deserved to be spoken to, she really could not blame him. 

Villanelle began to pace, playing with the large golden pendant that was hanging around her neck. “How does one become the figure the students are drawing.”

Konstantin let out a sharp, “Hah!”

Villanelle stopped her pacing, slamming both of her hands on Konstantin’s desk. “What!?”

“You are not going to get away with that.” 

“Oh, but I will.” She smirked, holding her head up high.

“There are plenty of viable people that are not you.”

“Exactly, they are not me.”

“Did you not hear the viable part? Are you not listening?”

She walked around his desk, placing her hands on his shoulders. “What can I do to get you to help me.” She pouted at Konstantin, “I’ll do anything!”

He pushed her off of him, “Villanelle.”

“I told you, I think I am in love with her.”

“That is your problem, not mine.” She pouted again, “Maybe I’ll go talk to that Martens lady.”

“Hah!” He chuckled again, deep and guttural and it vibrated in Villanelle's skull. 

“Stop with that! It’s scaring me.” 

“Good luck talking to her, her office is nearly never open.”

“But…” Villanelle’s eyes widened, an idea forming in her head.

“I know that face, and the answer is no.” 

“I know you have been wanting to talk to her, and now you have an excuse!” Villanelle grinned at him. He sighed, he knew that he could never win, not with Villanelle.

“Fine. Now let’s get out of here, it’s cold in this room.”

* * *

“I think she likes me back, Konstantin.” Villanelle’s heart swelled, whenever she thought of Eve, her whole entire body seemed to flutter. Which, in return, made Villanelle extremely ill. Who was she becoming? She was not sure if she liked it or not.

“Just don’t mess this up like you always do.” 

“What does that mean!” Villanelle frowned, playing with the gold ring on her index finger.

“Do I have to name names? Anna, Maria-“

Villanelle rolled her eyes, “They hurt me! I did not hurt them. It’s their fault.”

Instead of replying to Villanelle’s rebuttal, Konstantin just reiterated: “Just don’t mess this up like you always do.”

They had made it to Villanelle’s flat, and he put the car into park. Villanelle turned in her seat, staring at him. She grabbed his face, “I love you.” He laughed, placing his hands over her’s, “I love you too, лапушечка.” 

* * *

Villanelle, still exhausted from the night before, was barely able to find the motivation to get ready for class. Her head was thrumming, and although she did not drink that much, the combination of nerves and lack of sleep, felt deadly. She washed her face, patting down her moisturizer and lazily applying a soft highlight and blush. She settled on putting her hair in a braid, and pulling on a shorts and a vintage tee. She then sprayed perfume and grabbed her laptop before heading out the door, with time to spare. 

When Villanelle arrived at the studio, no one was there, not even Carolyn. She set her bag down in the back, and went to the very small room where she was allowed to get undressed. She checked her phone, she was early, but not early enough for it to be completely empty. This was perplexing, so she popped her head out of the door and called out, "Hello? Anyone?" Her voice echoed in the empty space. She shrugged, too tired to care. 

The song from last night was still stuck in her head, she hummed it, slipping off her sneakers. A knock on the door shocked her out of her stupor, she stayed quiet, but the knocking remained persistent and rhythmic. It stopped, and a voice spoke up, "Villanelle?" 

It was Eve. 

Villanelle without thinking, opened the door, kicked back her shoes and let Eve inside, all in one swift motion. Eve looked different, she looked fresh, her stare sinking it's teeth into Villanelle. Eve's big hair fell across her shoulders in perfect waves, she inched closer, running her hand through her curls. 

"Hi Eve..." Villanelle swallowed, the space between them getting smaller.

Eve did not say anything, instead she pushed Villanelle back onto the small bench, " _Oksana_."

She usually hated when someone said her real name, but she wanted Eve to say it again. She swallowed, her face flushing and her pulse thrumming. "Do you need help getting undressed?" 

Villanelle's mouth fell, nodding, she wanted to say something else but she could not find the words. Eve looked her up and down, Villanelle knew that she was going to be posing today, so she had not worn a bra. This fact was becoming more, and more evident, as Villanelle felt herself getting hot under Eve's gaze. Eve settled, straddling Villanelle and placing her hands on Villanelle's shoulders. She moved her hand down to her chest, thumbing lightly over her nipple. Villanelle sighed, confused and pleased. Eve's hands slipped under her shirt, finding Villanelle's breasts and massaging them. She pulled the top over Villanelle's head, admiring her nude figure, "You are, you're perfect." 

She began trailing kisses, sucking on the skin below her collarbone and playing with her nipples. Villanelle moaned, feeling herself growing wetter. She reached down, eager to please herself. Her hand drifted, dipping under the elastic of her underwear, but Eve caught her before she could do anything. Eve shook her head, "Did I say you could do that?" Villanelle gasped, "N-No I'm sorry Eve I just-" Eve grabbed both of her wrists, pinning them behind her on the wall. Eve smirked, "Good girl." 

Eve leaned into Villanelle, sucking on her lip and biting down hard. Villanelle moaned into her mouth, making Eve grind in response and capturing her mouth in an open kiss. The kiss was warm, but electric and sent chills down her spine. Eve's lips were addictive, so soft it felt like the kiss was heavenly, but so rough, that it sucked all the air out of her lungs. Their tongues glided perfectly and as the moment grew, their kisses became sloppy and overwhelming. Her hands were still pinned back, so she was not able to do much, but it did not stop her from grinding against Eve, desperate to get something out of her. They kept kissing, Villanelle pressing her lips hard and sucking on Eve's tongue. Eve suddenly pulled away, all too reminiscent of the night before. 

"Are you- are you alright?"

Eve nodded, moving to tease Villanelle's left nipple, and sucking gently on the other. She loved the feeling of Eve's lips on her body, the way her tongue was moving when her tit was in Eve's mouth. She let out a whimper, wanting to touch herself, to pull Eve's hair to do, _something_. Eve must have noticed Villanelle squirming against her hold, so she pulled her mouth away and let go of Villanelle's wrists. 

"What do you want?"

Villanelle barely could speak, "I think you know." She swallowed, afraid of what Eve's response would be to such a sly comment. Instead, Eve unbuttoned and unzipped Villanelle's shorts, pulling them off of her with her underwear. She maintained eye contact the whole entire time, her deep brown eyes looking vicious and bold. Eve gasped, breaking to look at Villanelle's dripping pussy, " _Oksana_." 

"Eve, please. I'm begging you." Eve leaned in, and Villanelle felt her whole entire body tense. "Eve, I need you, please Eve, I-" 

Villanelle shot up in her bed, her eyes wide and her heart racing. Sweat was dripping from her forehead, and she reached down into her underwear. 

"What the fuck." She was wet, it had soaked through her underwear and it was slightly sticky on her thigh. She grabbed a pillow from beside her, burying her face in it and trying to gather what had just happened. She turned in her bed sheets, wrapping herself up and trying to calm herself down, but it was proving unsuccessful. She checked her clock, she still had a couple of hours left before she had to wake up, but she had apparently fallen asleep with all of her makeup on, so she mustered the courage to get out of bed. "What the fuck." 

She grabbed her phone, and walked over to her bathroom. She soaked a cotton pad, rubbing it against her face in small circles, and checked her phone. 

"Eve!" She smiled, throwing away the cotton pad and unlocking her phone. 

It was a selfie, Eve looked cozy in her bed, and she was smiling at the camera, throwing a peace sign. 

"Oh Eve," Villanelle whispered out loud, talking to her phone, "Fuck you're so cute." 

Eve had sent it a couple of hours ago, and Villanelle felt awkward responding when it was so late in the night, but she did anyways. She tried over and over to get a good photo of herself for Eve, attempting different poses and angles. Eve always looked so effortless, from the moment Villanelle saw her exasperated on campus last summer, to a selfie taken before bed. She could not replicate that ease if she tried, but she sent a selfie back nonetheless. She smiled at the camera, tilting it and angling it just slightly upwards, and throwing up a peace sign too. Within seconds, Eve responded. 

_How do you look so cute? It's four in the morning._

_You don't know how many pictures I took to settle on this one._

She placed her phone on the edge of the sink, reaching for her toothbrush and brushing her teeth, anxious for a response. She finished, spit out the toothpaste, washed her face, and _still_ nothing. She changed out of her dress, which she had also fell asleep in, and changed out of her underwear. Finally, she heard her phone buzz. Apparently, the time difference between her text and Eve's response was a meek five minutes, but it had not felt like that short of a time, it had felt like eons. 

_What are you still doing up, Villanelle?_

_Haven't been able to sleep._

She lied, obviously. Was she supposed to say, " _Oh, well I just woke up from a dream where you sucked on my tits and ate me out and I woke up soaking wet!"_

_Me too. But, I think I might try to again, texting you helped me out a bit. I'll see you tomorrow._

Villanelle sighed at her phone, smiling like an idiot. _See you tomorrow. x_

She walked back to her bed, all of her exhaustion hitting her at once. She fell into her messy sheets, pillows and blankets, her phone still in her hand. She pulled up the conversation with Eve, and opened the selfie that Eve had sent to her. She thumbed over her digital face, and stared at it for a bit, before she plugged her phone in and went back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was ,, so fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you for all of the comments & kudos, it means everything to me.


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